


Hold Your Breath

by minidumpling



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, Endgame, F/F, F/M, Gen, Headcanon, Light Angst, Multi, Other, POV Catra (She-Ra), Princess Adora (She-Ra), Teasers & Trailers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minidumpling/pseuds/minidumpling
Summary: Her vision’s blurring, the edges becoming soft and colors starting to overlap but she can see Adora’s face. There's no more contradictory expressions or backwards feelings, it's fury and rage and guilt and worry and fear and...Adora steps forward with a truly frightening glare, her blue eyes no longer cool but icy cold, jaw clenched and hands curled up into fists besides her and she bares her teeth at Prime.“LET. HER. GO.”
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra/Glimmer (She-Ra), Double Trouble/Horde Prime, Hordak/Horde Prime (She-Ra)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 166





	1. Webbed Glass

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [this cartoon](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/615499) by piningpotato. 



> Huge credit goes to @piningpotato on ig for creating the art that inspired this piece, they started it all.

They hadn’t really talked yet, couldn’t really find the right things to say as they sat side by side in the cramped, cold cell somewhere above Etheria on Prime’s ship. The only glances they dared to exchange were in front of Prime, little sneak peeks towards the other person as Prime glanced between them, his green eyes flicking back and forth.

“You’re just going to be a little piece to my machine and you’ll do what I say,” was what Prime told them in a nutshell. On top of that, layers and layers of seemingly sincere respect and courtesy spun them around in circles as they both looked for a hint or a trap in his words, his promises and threats, but they all seemed real.

“That machine is going to blow the shit out of every other planet,” was what he told them.

It didn’t sit well with Catra, being told she was a piece of his machine that was being used to just _yeet_ every other planet out of existence. Didn’t sit well that everything she’d worked for was just being taken away with a few words, and it would probably never come back, seeing as they were locked up on Prime’s ship for good.

As soon as they were taken to the cells—”The spare rooms,” Prime hissed to the guards—Catra threw herself against the bars dividing their cells, reaching her hand through and hoping that maybe Glimmer would take it, hoping that maybe they could just hold each other and not crack that way, hoping maybe Glimmer could just teleport them back and they could pretend the whole thing never happened.

“Hey!” she hissed. “Glimmer!”

The Queen of Brightmoon only frowned at Catra’s outstretched hand, her eyebrows drawing together before she returned her gaze to the floor.

It kind of pissed her off, the way she just disregarded the one attempt at a non-violent interaction Catra tried. “Sparkles! What the hell is wrong with you? Help m—”

“—What’s wrong with me?” Glimmer scoffed, the sharp exhale sounding like shattering glass; sharp and short. “What’s wrong with _you_!? Why are you acting like this?”

Catra took a deep breath. This was going to be a long conversation, one that might just rip off a few mental band-aids she’d hastily slapped on through the past few months. She couldn’t blame Glimmer for being like this, really, but she’d at least _hoped_ that the Queen could maybe start laying into her full force when they were safe and Prime was—preferably—a bunch of vaporized atoms.

She steeled herself against the metal bars. “’Cause I want to go home in one piece.”

“How?” Glimmer’s voice was sharp and cracked halfway through; she lifted her arms to wipe her face and Catra realized with a sinking stomach that she was crying, the tears gathering on her chin and dripping silently onto the floor. “How are we supposed to do that? We’re on the universe’s most infamous conquistadora miles and miles away from anyone else, and we’re supposed to escape?” She lifted her head, gulping for air. “Impossible.”

Catra was half-surprised at how fast Glimmer had given up all hope, not after she’d seen the steely glint in her eye or the way the corner of her mouth quirked upwards when she got an idea that even Catra wouldn’t do. It didn’t feel right, for the Queen to just give up. Didn’t feel natural, something felt off and Catra didn’t know what it was.

“Aw c’mon,” Catra said, trying to pack as much cheer into her voice as possible. Even to her, it sounded fake but she pushed on anyways. “We’ll get out and get to see all our friends again and have parties and celebrate kicking Prime’s ass. It’s impossible because everyone else was too scared to try it.”

“I’d like to hear your brilliant scheme on how to escape,” Glimmer spat.

Catra trailed off into silence, pursing her lips together. “I uh, sort of thought maybe we could, uh, brainstorm together. Y’know, since you’re queen and all that.”

Glimmer shifted, exhaling sharply in a bark of laughter that seemed more of a pressure vent than anything else. “Stuck in a cell with this furry right next to me,” she muttered, “just my luck today.”

Catra backed off, after that. Lay down on her bench and closed her eyes and pretended she didn’t hear the sniffling from the other cell, pretended five hours later that she was asleep and not listening to every heart-wrenching sob of Glimmer, every gasp for air and every silence where Glimmer squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to let the tears flow.

It sort of felt like listening to herself, after a while.

Catra turned over and covered her ears with her hands after that.

* * *

They ate twice a day, served via chute that carelessly dropped food into their cells—no tray, no silverware. For three days, Catra resisted, instead pushing the food to Glimmer’s cell and listening as Glimmer’s sobs slowly quieted into a much more frightening silence. On the fourth day, she finally broke, scrambling forward as soon as the food hit the ground and shoveling it into her mouth, not caring about how lowly or messy she looked to Glimmer, caring instead about the roaring hunger in her body that tore through her abdomen and demanded food, _now_.

They sort of settled into a routine, Catra giving one meal to Glimmer and saving the other for herself. She didn’t turn to look if Glimmer came to get the gifted food, only rolled over during the night to see the empty spot on the floor where she’d pushed it. Glimmer would sleep with her back facing Catra most nights and all Catra would see was the rise and fall of her sides as Glimmer lay awake for the entire night. On the nights where Glimmer’s mind fucked with her—nights where it whispered terrible thoughts into her head and wouldn’t stop—she would roll over and face Catra, watching her for the entire night, getting at least some company, even if it was from an enemy. They wouldn’t speak, only acknowledging each other and seeking comfort from whatever demons haunted their thoughts.

It was almost peaceful, those nights.

On the eighth day their doors slid open and the muzzles of the guards’ rifles poked through, beckoning them to put their hands in the air and walk backward toward the exit. Catra couldn’t help lifting her gaze to look at the behemoth room, the towering walls full of other prisoners, a literal block of cells full of Prime’s spoils of war. When Glimmer stepped out of her cell Catra wanted to leap forward, grab Glimmer, and yell at her to _teleport them the fuck away_ , but the cold muzzle in the small of her back convinced her otherwise and she just stood there, catching Glimmer’s eye and giving a small jerk of her head in recognition.

“Prime would like to speak with you,” one of the guards said. Smoothly, sleekly, in that same ridiculously deep yet perfect voice that Prime spoke with. “This way, please.”

They took Catra one way, Glimmer the other. Maybe they didn't want them to chitter chatter like first graders on a schoolbus, maybe they didn’t want to risk Glimmer blowing her quanta trying to teleport them back into the general vicinity of Etheria’s atmosphere.

Catra can’t help taking little peeks into other cells even though it feels wrong and she’s surprised; the prisoners from the other planets don't look like the aliens with tentacles and hideous faces like she’d imaged while listening to their roars during the cells, but they look almost like her. Then again, she doesn’t even know her own heritage or where she came from

It settles her mind for a little bit as she tries to imagine what their lives were like before the entire fiasco; what sort of games they played with their friends and what sort of memories they hold onto while laying on the metal bench waiting for an uncertain rescue, what sort of things they held onto with their heart because everything else turned black and flaked away, revealing an ugly, desperate void and that memory was the only rope holding them down while everything else disintegrated before their eyes.

The guards take her to a grey tube and come to a halt, standing there without moving like they’re expecting Prime himself to just appear in front of them.

“Uh... am I supposed to be doing something?” Catra asks, tossing the guard closest to her a questioning look.

“The transportation pod is enroute, please be patient for now,” is the reply she gets.

“Great,” she mutters, “stuck in front of a metal tube with four clones of a psychopath— _oof!_ ”

The front guard takes a menacing step towards her, hand raised above her head. “You will not speak ill of Horde Prime,” it snarls, still speaking in that same goddamn perfect voice. “Respect him, and he will respect you.”

That sounded familiar.

Oh yeah, Weaver.

Catra winces, shaking her head and making sure her eyes aren’t pointing in different directions anymore. “Yeah. Yeah. Got it.”

Silence descends over them again.

She’s not sure if the waiting is something to make her more nervous, or just a real delay while their transportation gets here. If it is just a delay, Prime really needs to upgrade the system.

A pang of guilt runs through her body as she thinks about Entrapta going haywire in this place. She can picture the childish smile on her face, her hair a blur as she flies past, examining every inch of the ship and practically squealing with glee.

And Prime. Holy shit, if she was infatuated with Hordak, Prime would be like walking into school and finding your secret crush but twenty times better.

Catra shakes off the small smile that comes over her face. No need to be seen grinning at nothing like an actual psychopath, or giggling at imaginary scenarios she's started to come up with in her head just to make the time pass by faster, or watching the walls like a movie is playing on it—which, in her head, there is.

It’s another few moments before the door slides open and reveals the transport, standing ready and revealing more cold, hard metal benches but bright fluorescent lights that hurt Catra’s eye to look at.

The guard behind her nudges her in the back. “Enter. You will be received by Prime shortly.”

Catra obeys, although she can’t resist throwing a sharp look behind her. The guard only scowls and pokes her with his gun.

“Jesus christ, I’m going, ok?” Catra steps into the cell, and turns around in time to see the door slide shut and then the entire thing is abolustely silent, the sound of her clothes shifting around seeming ten times louder than normal. She can hear her heartbeat, a steady _whomp-whomp_ in her chest, can hear that eerie ringing in the back of her head, every puff of breath she takes as she sits down on the bench and feels the transport jolt forward, smoothly accelerating on whatever tracks it traveled on.

She pulls her arms tighter around herself, watching the vapor from her breath lazily fade away and wishing she had something warmer, like the jacket Scorpia had worn to the icy frozen lands somewhere she can't really remember anymore, it’s all hazy and distant and she can't really recall it that well.

She remembers the jacket, though. The one that Scorpia draped over her their first night there when Catra curled up on the couch in Entrapta’s lab. The gentle weight of it bearing down on her, and the warmth slowly growing until it was stuffy and hot but cozy, and Catra could finally closer her eyes and relax without shivering. The one she woke up in with the smell of Scorpia’s shampoo in, the one that made her dizzy and want to drop her head and fall back into the first dreamless sleep she’s had in months.

She remembers how she fought to keep the gratitude out of her voice when she thanked Scorpia for letting her use the jacket as a blanket, how Scorpia’s eyes went wide and—

—Glimmer appears.

Catra doesn’t even flinch, only giving her a questioning look and tucking her chin back onto her knees for a response, trying and failing to pick back up on her trail of thought. It’s gone, a balloon released into the sky.

“I was cold and lonely in the pod they dropped me in,” Glimmer shrugs. “I thought I should check up on you.”

“I...oh.” Catra lifts up her head and gives Glimmer another look. She’s got dark circles under her eyes from all the sleepless nights replaying terrible scenarios over and over in her mind, her right eye has a tic and she looks like a glass statue, as if a single prod would send everything shattering towards the ground. She just looks tired, tired to the bone of what they’ve been living through.

And she came to check up on Catra.

“Thanks.” It comes out a lot more sincere than Catra meant it to be, but she doesn't feel that twang of annoyance towards herself, doesn’t unconciously scowl.

“Don’t mention it.” There’s still a tinge of unease in Glimmer's voice and she's chewing her bottom lip, glancing skittishly around the room as the silence settles over them again but at least she isn’t leveling any sort of magical staff at her face anymore. At least she’s talking, albeit in a stiff manner. “So...how’ve you been holding up?”

Catra gives her a tired smirk, spreading her arms like _look at me!_. “I’m alive, aren’t I?” She frowns. “Or am I in heaven?”

Glimmer cracks a smile, an uptight one but still the first smile Catra’s elicited from her. “As if Prime’s prison was heaven,” she mutters bitterly. “If this is actually heaven I want to go to ditch this place and go to Satan’s castle instead.”

Catra raises her eyebrows, shooting Glimmer a look. “And do you plan on busting out and heading to Satan’s castle anytime soon?”

As if someone was listening in on their conversation, waiting for the perfect moment, the door slides open as Glimmer’s mouth opens for a response and she freezes, eyes going wide as she realizes she should probably be in the other pod but it’s too late, the door's open and Prime is standing above them, cocking his eyebrow as he sees the two of them inside.

There’s a few awkward seconds of silence.

“Did I interrupt something?” Prime queries. Catra can feel her stomach churn at the way his eyes point in different directions, one flicking to Glimmer and the other focusing on her and maybe it’s just the way that Prime sneers down at them that makes her stomach boil.

Catra shakes her head. “No. We were just looking to not sit in a pod by ourselves so we carpooled.”

Prime doesn’t take his eyes of them but he nods, stepping aside and gesturing for them like _step this way please_ , and Glimmer shoots Catra a look before clambering out first.

“You may be wonder why I summoned you two,” Prime drawls, offering his hand to Glimmer and frowning when she doesn’t take it. “I have received a video link from Etheria and I believe it would _greatly_ interest you two to see it.”

Catra doesn't need to acknowledge the little alarm bells going off in her head to narrow her eyes at his words. Prime notices and his frown relaxes into a smile, all of his perfect shiny white teeth displayed in neat rows that Catra would really like to knock out of place.

“I assure you, this will be something you will not want to miss,” Prime says. He wisely doesn't offer his hand to Catra. As soon as she gets her feet under her he whirls around with a flourish, herding the two over to the main console in the center of the cramped room filled with dials and displays and controls that probably controlled the temperature within the ship to a hundreth of a degree.

Ok, maybe not but it was just Catra’s speculation.

Still, his next words grab her attention without fail and her stomach fills up with ice cold lead in an instant.

“It appears your friends are inbound on an ancient relic of a First One’s ship and are due to arrive within the next ten minutes,” Prime says, sweeping his arm across the displays like Catra and Glimmer can read the gibberish on the screens. “I thought you might like to talk to them for a few minutes before we...contained them.”

Catra sneaks a sideglance at Glimmer and the queen’s face is hardset into a fierce scowl, her hands are clenched up into fists and the fatigue Catra saw in the pod is all gone; replaced by a burning energy that makes her features writhe with anger.

Glimmer opens her mouth but Catra grabs onto her wrist, gripping it tightly and shaking her head. _Don’t._

She closes her mouth.

No sense in screwing up what might be the only chance to talk with whoever's on the ship. No sense in pissing off Prime so bad he just decides to blow the ship's occupants into space and watch their bodies float around while casually drinking some lemonade.

Still, Glimmer blinks back tears as she clenches her jaw shut and Catra swears she hears a tooth crack but Glimmer doesn't move, only staring at Prime with fury and hatred in her eyes, the same glare that used to be directed at her when they met at opposite ends of the battlefield and it feels a little weird to not have it locked onto her.

They don’t let go of each other for the next ten minutes, two halves of a whole, two polar opposites balancing each other out because otherwise it might go wrong, might spin out of their control. Glimmer’s knuckles are white and trembling as she squeezes them tighter but Catra gives her a nudge with her elbow and dips her head like _relax. Nothing you can do now._

It takes a few seconds but she lets her hands fall to her sides.

And there it is again. Waiting for an uncertain future, waiting to see if it might play out their way or might not and Catra’s irked about it, irked about being helpless to do anything and being forced to just sit here and let her own mind play games on her.

Prime doesn't say anything, stoically watching them out of the corner of his eye.

So they wait in silence.

Watching the dot on the screen track closer.

Watching the little speck on the horizon grow larger.

Holding onto each other because if they let go they will surely shatter.

* * *


	2. Blind Guessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra can almost hear Adora saying "oh shit" in her head. Either that or "we’re all fucked", both of which would be suitable.
> 
> Adora lowers her staff slightly. “Oh, shit.”
> 
> Glimmer sighs. “We’re all fucked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi this is the first multi-chapter work that I don't feel like abandoning after the first two chapters and I kinda like the feeling. 
> 
> Again, a lot of the credit for this story goes to @piningpotato on insta for creating the cartoon; it's from them that I got the idea and I hope my story lives up to the great artwork they made.

Five minutes ago the lights in Prime’s control room flickered.

Fifteen minutes ago Prime informed Catra and Glimmer there were ten minutes until their “friends” (his words, not Catra’s) arrived.

It’s silent. Even more silent than the freezing pod Catra arrived here in, where she could listen to the blood rush through her veins if she tried hard enough. Here, she’s sure that she can hear the gears turn in Glimmer’s head. Prime looks unfazed, that same stupid little smirk fixed on his mouth as he watches Catra and Glimmer fight to stay silent, to stay quiet against the hope they can’t really stop.

They all know something is about to happen, but only Prime knows what.

“So, tell me,” he drawls, raising his eyebrows and casting a casual glance toward Catra. “Who do you think will be aboard this... envoy?”

“Shouldn’t you know already?” Glimmer shoots back. Her voice is sharp and sarcastic, more like the Glimmer that Catra knows and not the defeated Queen she’s been living with for the past few days. It’s a little comforting, to hear at least _something’s_ gone back to normal, to see the fire rekindled— even if it was rekindled by learning her friends are jumping onto what looks like a suicide mission to save them. “What about all your fancy tech?”

Prime chuckles. “Of course I know, Your Majesty. I just wanted to hear your guesses and perhaps give you a pleasant _surprise_.”

Catra steps up to keep Glimmer from bursting a blood vessel, throwing her own glare toward Prime and giving Glimmer a light push backward, a little order to stand down. “You just want to fuck around with us,” she growls. “You want to screw around with our heads.”

Prime shrugs. “Call it what you want, I personally refer to it as _striking up a conversation_.” He flashes a pleasant smile, all four of his eyes locking onto Catra’s. “But of course, if you would rather wait in silence, by all means.”

Glimmer doesn’t want silence. “Why are you doing this?” she demands. There’s that hard edge in her question, but also a little tremble that Prime picks up on and he tilts his head, considering her.

“I only wish to restore balance to the Universe,” he says simply, raising his hands to his sides and gesturing out the window towards the inky expanse beyond them. “Without a controlling hand, it falls into disarray. Without me, it would be anarchy. I am the master the Universe seeks, the answer to our future.”

“We didn’t even know you existed and we were doing just fine until you showed up,” Glimmer spits. “We don’t need you, and neither does all the other planets you’re taking over. You’re a power-hungry dictator, and you deserve to die. _You will not win_.”

Maybe Glimmer had more of a runaway mouth than Catra did.

Prime frowns. “Child—”

—the door on the other side of the room slams open with a bang.

Prime snarls as he whirls around to face off against the smoke that’s pouring out of the door. There're indistinct shapes and shouts, moving around and indiscernible until someone wearing a red jacket steps through, some of her blonde hair hanging over her face as she brandishes a staff at Prime.

“Ten minutes, huh?”

* * *

Prime takes a second to smooth back his snake-like locks and reset. He gives Adora a vibrant smile and bows, sweeping his arm out in a circle, ignoring the cries of battle and clanging of metal outside their room. “Welcome,” he purrs, “to my humble ab—”

“—it’s over Prime." Adora gives zero shits about Prime’s greeting, planting her foot forward and leveling her staff at Prime. “Your guards are defeated and you’re going to hand over Glimmer and the other one.”

Ouch. Catra winces.

Prime doesn’t miss that—the guy didn’t miss any damn thing—and he glances back toward Catra, impassive. “Very well,” he rumbles, “I guess I shall just summon the other few hundred thousand of my clones and the million bots sitting around in the standby rooms then. And mark my words, there are indeed a million bots present on this ship.”

Adora’s eyes widen a little bit and Catra feels something twist in her gut. “You have more!?”

Prime cocks his head, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Oh yes, child, I have many, many more.”

Catra can almost hear Adora saying _oh shit_ in her head. Either that or _we’re all fucked_ , both of which would be suitable.

Adora lowers her staff slightly. “Oh, shit.”

Glimmer sighs. “We’re all fucked.”

“Language, children,” Prime scolds. “We are not barbarians here. And you,” he says, turning to Adora, “I will be willing to make a fair and even trade, perhaps for all of the prisoners you want back.”

“Why do you want to trade?” asks Adora.

Prime shrugs. “Child, some of these bots are a brand new design that will blow up entire planets at the press of a button and we’re not completely through with the beta testing. Unless, of course,” he adds, his gaze flicking back to Catra and Glimmer, “you would like to take a small risk of being evaporated in a few microseconds alongside your friends here."

Catra can see the panic mounting in Adora as her plan falls into shambles around her. She’s gripping the staff tighter, her knuckles white as she tightens her hold but she’s also breathing a little harder and darting glances around the room. Add a twitching nose and it’s a picture-perfect image of a rabbit knowing its being hunted.

Prime is cool as always, hands clasped behind his back. “I suppose I’ll just release the bots if you have no more to say,” he says.

“You won’t,” Catra blurts out. “If the risk is real, you wouldn’t risk yourself for it.”

Prime doesn’t react. “We’ll find out about that,” he slowly, casually reaching out to some of the displays.

He won’t do it.

He can’t.

But Adora can’t, either, and he knows that.

“Stop! I’ll negotiate!” She thrusts her staff forward, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t release the bots and we’ll talk.”

Prime relaxes into an easy grin. “That’s better child. You’re already learning.”

Frustration and anger flare up in Catra’s stomach as she glares at Adora but it’s buried under a softer blanket of guilt and shame when Adora’s gaze flicks to her and she looks worried, worried sick and all of a sudden Catra can sort of understand why she wouldn’t let Prime press the button.

Glimmer catches Catra’s expression and gives her a little nudge, like _hey_.

It takes a few seconds, but Catra rolls her eyes and bares her fangs instead.

* * *

Catra can’t figure out how Adora became the negotiator of the princess rebellion. It doesn’t make sense, and if she’s truly the best strategist and talker of the entire group then, well, it’s a miracle the Horde hasn’t squashed them flat yet.

“So, uh, I think we could, um, make some sort of deal to y’know, uh, exchange the prisoners and maybe we’ll back out and let you be.”

Prime leers down at her. “Of course. That’s why we’re talking.”

And he’s drawing out the words, hanging them in the air as if Adora was a child grabbing at them and Adora’s getting visibly frustrated as Prime continues to talk as if she were a four year old. She's starting to tap her staff against the floor incessantly and every now and then she gives a little huff, brushing aside the hair that always falls back into her face and trying to force her face back into a neutral expression.

If she weren’t bartering for their freedom, Catra would’ve laughed.

Prime doesn’t try to stifle his chuckle in the least, his shoulders shaking as he snickers. “So you are willing to leave in exchange for these two prisoners?” he asks, coolly cutting through Adora’s rambling.

“Um, yes! We won’t take over your ship and we'll let you be.”

Prime only smiles wider, shaking his head slightly and practically screaming _“STUPID CHILD”_ with his body language, the way he's no longer listening to Adora speaking and rather glancing around at the displays flashing up on his console.

Adora doesn’t even pick up on that, keeps on going without stopping. “...and then we should both be, uh, happy.”

There have been two times in her entire life that Catra can remember getting so impatient and frustrated that she’s gotten tics in her eyes.

The first was when Scorpia spent months trying to become _friends_.

The second was right now, standing here watching Adora fuck up negotiations for their lives and fumbling all over her words.

“Mr. Prime,” Catra asks, gritting her teeth together so stop herself from screaming, “it would be so kind of you if you could grant us a few minutes to converse with the... ambassador in private.”

Prime raises his eyebrows but the rest of him is indifferent, unmoving. “Of course. Take your time, but rest assured if you do try to escape I will not hesitate to release the rest of my troops.” He heads to the other side of the room and stands facing the window, hands clasped behind his back—something Catra was very quickly coming to recognize as his default position—and gave them a little nod of his head.

Glimmer’s in Adora’s arms before Catra can turn back around, pulling her into what looked like a bone-crushing hug. “Adora!” she cries, “you came back!”

“Of course,” Adora says, returning the embrace. “I’m not going to leave behind any of my friends.”

It might be Catra’s imagination but Prime scoffs softly.

Adora turns to look at Catra, and her face is unreadable—not that she was keeping it blank, but there were so many feelings flashing across her face so fast, so many opposite emotions that shouldn't be there but were coexisting at the same time and Catra can’t tell what she’s really feeling, can’t decide what she should do.

So she takes a step forward, away from Prime and closer to Adora. And another one, another foot further from Prime and closer to Adora. And another one, and soon she’s standing a few yards in front of her and it seems too close and too far, too awkward because normally when they’re this close it’s with weapons and they’re trying to put the other in the ground. Or whooshing them away into an unstable dimension. Or letting each other fall into a bottomless pit at a First One’s temple.

Adora’s just looking at Adora with critical eyes and Catra feels her cheeks heat up with embarrassment and guilt and maybe a little bit of something else she hasn't felt for a while but she shoves those away because she’s blushing and no, that doesn't look good because it's better to seem in control rather than be totally out of it.

So she just throws out the first words she can think of, but her throat catches on the words and twists it at the last minute and it comes out weird, warped and it sounds so much more fragile than she wanted it to, a thin pane of glass that’s cracking beneath her. “Hello, Adora.”

Adora swallows, hard. She releases Glimmer and takes a step forward, narrowing her eyes but it’s not in a good or bad way, just narrowing them because she’s trying to figure out Catra again, this Catra isn’t the Catra she knew and that makes her ache on the inside. “Catra.”

Short and curt.

The ache grows a little more.

Catra focuses instead on the indignant outrage at her talking skills. “How in the world did you become the negotiator?”

She’s testing the waters. Pushing her limits to find out where she really is, even if they should be focusing on how to get them out of here first.

There’s a steely glint of annoyance in Adora’s eyes but she gives back a smooth and cool reply. “I was the best one.”

Glimmer nods in agreement. “The others are...well...” she grimaces and shakes her head.

Catra blinks. “Ok. Ok, whatever, just try not to sound so lost when you talk to Prime, ok? I want to get out of here, and preferably in one piece.”

Adora holds her with another one of those unusually piercing glances of hers. “And what are you going to do the moment you’re free?”

Catra shrugs. “Start over with the rebellion and don’t fuck it up this time, I guess. Got nowhere else to go is all.”

There. Adora cracks the tiniest of grins and it’s at odds with the distant vibe she’s giving off but its something, it’s a start and Catra can work with that.

Glimmer grabs onto Adora’s arm. “Ok listen, we need to get out of here alive without being blown up, and with a way to keep Prime from conquering other worlds. I’ve seen the other prisoners here, and we can't just let them sit there forever, right?”

Adora shifts uncomfortably. “Well, maybe not forever but we can at least get you guys out of here and maybe get back to Etheria so we can let you guys recover and then maybe go screw around with Prime some more right now _but can we talk about that later and when he’s not right there?_ ”

“Adora, we can't leave anyone else behind!” Glimmer hisses. “We might not know them but they’re all trying to get out of here too. They all have families and friends and we can't just leave them there!”

“I know. And I promise” —Adora takes Glimmer’s hand and Catra’s ear twitches when she sees it— “we will figure out a way to save them later but right now we need to get you and, uh, the other one out of here.”

“I'm right here,” Catra says dryly.

Adora ignores her. Same way Glimmer did when they were first thrown into their cells but this time it stings a little bit more and Catra just shuts her mouth and stands there, feeling the molten lava work its way down her body.

“Glimmer, I want to get everyone else out of here as much as possible but we can’t, even if everything went right. We don't have enough resources right now. We’ll have to come back some other time,” Adora says. “I promise.”

Glimmer opens her mouth, looks like she’s about to get into an argument but she just exhales, long and slow and Catra can see how her shoulders slump as she lets her head drop. “Fine,” she sighs. “But we _will_ come back for them.”

“Yes. We'll be back for them” Adora gives Glimmer’s shoulder a squeeze, gives Catra a stiff nod, and turns back toward Prime. “We’re ready to resume negotiations,” she calls.

Prime turns around and he’s been taking a break too, there’s a wide smile on his face and he spreads his arms like _Great News! I've come to a decision_.

“Great news!” he crows, “I’ve come to a decision.”

Glimmer tightens besides Catra and she tightens as a reflex and Adora’s noticing both of them tighten up and now _she’s tensing up too_ , just the three of them standing there waiting for Prime to give his verdict.

“I will allow the Queen of Brightmoon to return,” he says, and Catra’s heart plummets as Prime’s gaze lands on her. “However, I do have something else to request from this one. A private audience with her and the ambassador for a few moments. I will release her, have no fear, but I do want to strike up a conversation.”

Oh cool. FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK _FUCKETY_ FUCK _FUCK_. Catra stands there for a few more seconds feeling the ice trickle down between her organs before she realizes Adora and Glimmer are looking at her, waiting for her decision and she just jerks her head up and down like a PEZ dispenser.

“Ok,” she manages.

Adora also nods. “We’ll return to Etheria as soon as she is released.”

Prime smirks. “Excellent. Your Majesty, you may go,” he says to Glimmer, bowing. “It was an honor to host a guest of your stature. Catra, I assure you this will be quick and easy and you’ll be on your way as well. I also request the ambassador remain as well.”

Doesn’t help much to ease her nerves, actually makes her heart pound a little faster as Adora gives Glimmer a hug before pushing her through the door. It feels all wrong, but what else can she do? Only Prime can get such a big advantage that he can lay out the trap in plain sight and coax them in.

Adora shuffles up besides Catra and this is the closest they’ve ever been, their arms are within an inch of each other and Catra could just throw out an elbow and give her a playful poke if she wanted. She does when she jumps into the air as Prime snaps his fingers and the doors around them slam shut with a bang. Adora frowns as she glances around, cursing under her breath and rubbing a hand over the spot where Catra elbowed her; Catra isn't sure if she’s cursing because of the doors, or the nice bruise that will appear soon, or both.

“What do you want?” she asks Prime.

Prime starts walking toward them, slowly, casually, his shoes soundless against the metal floor. “As I said before, just to strike up a conversation," he says. “It’s not every day I get to meet people like...you two.”

Catra’s heart kicks up another notch. “What?” 

Prime stalks closer, and Catra can see that predatory gleam in his eyes as he draws nearer and nearer but she can't move, she's frozen in place in the hopes that maybe if she remains still enough it’ll pass. She’s tiptoeing her way around a much, much larger predator and she can’t tell if it’s too late anymore.

Prime comes to a stop right in front of them. “Let me put it this way,” he muses, “It’s a hunch but we’ll figure it out very fast.”

His hand shoots out, so fast Catra can’t react in time even though that sort of her thing and Prime’s hand is around her neck, squeezing so hard the only sounds she can make is weak gurgling attempts and she realizes she's hanging off the ground, feet dangling in the air and Prime's glaring at Catra now, a sneer spreading across his face as he examines her, chokes her.

“ _Catra!_ ” Adora steps forward and Prime backs off, returning his gaze to Adora and holding Catra a little higher in the air.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” he says quietly. “You wouldn't want me to squeeze” —his fingers tighten and Catra can feel her windpipe flexing under the pressure— “ _too hard_.”

“So,” he continues, staring down at Adora, searching her face for an answer. “Tell me, what is she to you?

“Just a fellow ally?”

His fingers close in a little more. Adora doesn't move.

“A close friend?”

Catra’s body is screaming for air, a burning poison in her veins, her claws are out and she’s weakly scratching at Prime's hand but he doesn't even notice it, doesn’t notice Catra’s eyes losing focus, watching Adora’s face writhe as she watches Catra hang.

She still doesn’t answer.

Prime frowns slightly. “Hmm, no? Is she not of any importance to you?" His fingers close in and Catra’s body jerks violently, throws itself around because she can’t even move anymore, can’t even try to open up her airways and the only thing she can do is flop around like a fish thrown onto land.

Her vision’s blurring, the edges becoming soft and colors starting to overlap but she can see Adora’s face. There's no more contradictory expressions or backward feelings, it's fury and rage and guilt and worry and fear and...

Adora steps forward with a truly frightening glare, her blue eyes no longer cool but icy cold, jaw clenched and hands curled up into fists beside her and she _bares_ her teeth at Prime.

# “ ** _LET. HER. GO._**”

Prime sneers, relaxes his hand just enough for Catra to breath, for her to get some air out and wheeze, “ _Hrgh...Adora no...”_

Prime doesn't hear it, he's turning his predatory gaze onto Adora and meeting Adora’s true, unfiltered feelings head-on, sorting through her expressions and emotions, picking through the layers upon layers she doesn't try to hide anymore.

_“I see...”_

The darkness lingering at the edges of Catra's vision rushes in and she falls into the black void but she still catches Prime's last words and she wants to buck her body, thrash around until he lets go but she’s already out and there’s nothing more she can do.

_“Is she something more?”_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting to the good stuff!   
> Some longer chapters incoming.


End file.
